


I Don't Feel so Well

by TheDumbestAvenger



Series: Whumptober 2020 [21]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Tony Stark, Hypothermia, Protective Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:09:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27126334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDumbestAvenger/pseuds/TheDumbestAvenger
Summary: Peter follows Tony in his search for Steve and Bucky in Siberia, but is left stranded when the suit he stole runs out of power
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Tony Stark & T'Challa
Series: Whumptober 2020 [21]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946023
Comments: 10
Kudos: 90
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	I Don't Feel so Well

**Author's Note:**

> Day 21!
> 
> Alright y'all, an early fic because apparently my sleep schedule doesn't exist anymore. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> *Warnings*  
> Blood (Minor) | Hypothermia

_ “Battery at three percent charge.” _

Red warnings flashed on the heads up display as systems began to shut down. Including, to Peter’s horror, the tracker located in Tony’s suit. He looked down at the snowy Siberian wasteland below, not a single sign of life in miles.

He needed to learn how to land this thing-

_ “Two percent.” _

\- and fast.

Angling himself down, the ground rushed up to meet him. The thought of being trapped inside the suit either until he died, or someone found him, too scary to bother trying to be graceful. At the last second, Peter held out his hands, slowing his descent just enough to stop the fall being near-deadly. Still, he bounced around inside the suit as it rolled over and over.

_ “One percent!” _

Even the lady in the suit sounded frantic. Peter managed to regain control, grabbing hold of a rock to stop him rolling any further. “Uh,” he squeaked, panic evident in his voice. “Open, open!”

The front of the suit folded outwards just as the heads-up display faded, and went dark. Peter leapt out, not wanting to risk the suit closing itself again, and stumbled a few steps away.

Immediately, the cold set in. Chilling him to his bones. His new Spider-Man suit may be good at pretty much everything, but turns out it’s not very insulating. He hugged his arms around himself, eyeing the now-defunct Iron Man suit with caution for a few seconds, before examining his surroundings.

White. That’s all he saw. No distinguishable features besides the occasional tuft of grass peeking through the snow.

“Mister Stark?” He called, trying to force the wobble out of his voice. “Mister Stark!” Louder this time, frightened.

Peter spun in circles, trying to figure out which way the tracker had been pointing. Towards that hill? Or maybe that one? He couldn’t remember. He knew he was close, knew Tony wasn’t too far off, but if he started walking the wrong way he’d only be putting more distance between them. So he should stay here, right? Someone would be along at some point when they noticed the suit was missing, maybe Tony already knew and was on his way right now. But could he afford to wait in the freezing cold for rescue?

“Mister Stark!” He bellowed, fear taking over and increasing the volume. His own words echoed back to him, but no one else replied. Tony wasn’t coming. Peter was on his own. He picked a direction, the one he hoped was correct, and started walking.

His feet sunk into the snow as he walked, sometimes burying them up to his ankles and making his progress painfully slow. He rubbed his arms trying to create some warmth, but the cold was biting.

At some point, he lost track of time. Unsure whether he’d been going for hours or only a handful of minutes. Shivering uncontrollably as his legs fell out from under him, wishing for a miracle.

* * *

Tony’s suit was out of action. What else would you expect after Rogers carved his arc reactor in half? He fumbled for the manual releases, metal creaking against metal as it peeled itself open. Tony staggered out, wiping blood from his eyes with the back of his hand.

He spun around at the sound of footsteps, ready to go another round with Rogers and Barnes. T’Challa walked in, removing his helmet and tucking it under his arm. “Stark,” he said, carefully walking closer, “You’re injured.”

T’Challa nodded to Tony’s side where a deep gash leaked blood over his undershirt. “Oh, shit.” Tony examined the wound, “That’s bad-”

“Here,” T’Challa held out a small, circular bead of some sort. “It’s a Kimoyo Bead, it will stabilise the bleeding.” He moved closer, silently asking Tony for permission with his eyes, and pressed the bead into the wound.

“Ah!” Tony yelped, though the pain subsided in a matter of seconds. As did the steady flow of blood. “That’s… How does that work?”

“Vibranium,” T’Challa examined the wound for a moment, ensuring the bead was placed correctly, before straightening up. “My jet isn’t far.”

“Right,” Tony nodded. He took a single step, and almost collapsed to the floor. Thankfully, T’Challa caught him, looping his arm around Tony’s waist while Tony slung his over T’Challa’s shoulders. 

They walked out in silence. Tony was far from the mood for talking, the video of Barnes stuck in his mind. His mother’s scream playing over and over, the sound of Howard’s skull cracking against the car door.

_ He’s my friend. _

_ So was I. _

They emerged out into the biting cold, Tony’s undershirt not doing much to fend it off. T’Challa ensured him the jet was only a couple minutes walk away.

“You have heating on that thing?” Tony asked, a vain attempt at making a joke. Keeping up appearances.

“Of course,” T’Challa laughed, “We’re the most technologically advanced country in the world and you think we don’t have heating?”

“Right, right,” Tony laughed too, T’Challa’s was so infectious he couldn’t help it. “You have a lot more vibranium than you let on, don’t you?”

“It’s better kept a secret. Too many people like Klaue in the world.”

Tony nodded, understanding all too well. He’d kept the miniaturised arc reactor blueprints under wraps for years. Not a living soul besides his own knew the plans, not even Rhodey. He bowed his head, the pair still staggering onwards. “I’m sorry about your father. I should have seen something like that coming.”

“You couldn’t have known.” There wasn’t a hint of animosity in T’Challa’s voice. That reassured Tony more than he cared to admit. “Zemo’s the one to blame-”

“Wait,” Tony interrupted, freeing himself from T’Challa’s arms and half running-half stumbling forward. “What’s that…?” A mound in the snow. A trace of red and blue barely visible under the fresh snow falling on top, it was sickeningly familiar. “Kid?”

T’Challa ran past Tony, reaching Peter first and brushing off the snow as he rolled him onto his back. Tony fell to his knees beside the kid, hand automatically finding it’s way to Peter’s wrist in search of a pulse. Relief flooded his body when he felt the weak beat beneath.

“Mis’ser Stark?” Peter slurred, hardly hanging on to consciousness.

“Yeah, it’s me, Pete,” Tony comforted. He watched the painfully slow rise and fall of Peter’s chest. “What are you doing here?”

“To find you…” Peter’s eyes fluttered closed. Tony tapped his cheek, rousing him before he slipped away. “Wha- Where are we?”

“Siberia.” Tony looked up to T’Challa, eyes frantically searching for answers as his brain refused to think about anything other than the fact this kid that he met all of twenty-four hours ago followed him all this way.  _ Oh God, this kid wasn’t fading out of Tony’s life anytime soon. _

“It looks like hypothermia,” T’Challa said. “We need to get him to the jet, now.” Without hesitating, he scooped Peter into his arms and started across the wasteland.

Tony followed as close as he could, seconds away from asking T’Challa exactly  _ how  _ far this jet was when it appeared out of nowhere. Had his brain been focused on anything other than Peter, he’d have recognised the use of retroreflective panels to disguise the ship.

_ Peter must have walked right by it without even noticing. _

T’Challa led the way on board. The jet warmed the second the door closed, but the sight of Peter’s blue-tinged lips as he lay on a bench was enough to turn Tony’s blood cold. T’Challa moved to the cockpit, taking them into the air.

“Where are we going?” Tony called.

“Wakanda, we can heal him there.” T’Challa could clearly feel Tony’s apprehension without even from this distance. “Trust me, Stark. We’ll look after you both.”

After a moment of debating, Tony nodded. “You hear that kid,” he reached down and carefully brushed one of his snow-dampened curls from the kid’s face, “you’re gonna be just fine.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Kudos and comments are much appreciated, and if you wanted to scream at me my tumblr is thedumbestavenger :D


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